


In Exchange

by bangcrashboom



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Magic, Magical Buddy Road Trip, Potential In-Law Bonding, Sibling Love, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-10 22:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2041821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bangcrashboom/pseuds/bangcrashboom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Presented with an odd, nightly occurrence, Queen Elsa embarks on a journey to answer a call. Ultimately, she will discover a good deal about herself, the world, and the future of her family within it. Non-Romantic Elsa and Kristoff bonding with a side of Kristanna. Lots of magic and attempted world-building.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Woke With Wings

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into a multi-chaptered fanfiction in an AGE. Right now, I think I'm looking at about six chapters of decent length, although it might break down differently as I'm writing. I'm hoping to update about once a week or so. I also very much appreciate any feedback you might have to give me. That said... Enjoy!

It was the smell of the place that stood out the most to Elsa, for whatever reason. It was a dank, wet scent, and it was all around her. She’d wandered into the mouth of a cave, which had stood dark and significant against the wind-swept white of the snowy mountainside. She took small, careful steps on the uneven ground, her fingers brushing against the rough rock of the wall to steady her if she should misstep. Ahead of her, the light from outside faded into blackness as the cave stretched into unknown lengths. While she couldn’t see anything more than a few feet ahead of her, she knew somehow that the path continued on and on, deep into the heart of the mountain, and there…

She was jarred from any speculation by an odd noise, a rhythmic tapping that seemed to have no clear point of origin. Taking a tentative step forward, she squinted into the darkness ahead of her, assuming that the noise was a part of the mystery of this place. When it rang out again, however (tap, tap, tap-tap, tap), it was from all around her. She turned sharply to look around her, and, quite suddenly, the light streaming in from the outside moved to swallow her up.

“Elsa?” Anna called through the door, knocking once more. “Are you in there?”

Her sister’s question sounded almost panicked, and Elsa struggled to pull herself out of an uncharacteristically deep sleep to answer. She sat up and scrubbed a hand over her face, pushing her hair hair back. “Come in,” she called, throwing back her covers and rising. “It’s unlocked.”

It was, and Anna entered promptly after she had the go-ahead. She was balancing the breakfast tray most usually wielded by Gerda, and her expressive face showed plain surprise at the sight of her older sister. She let out a small snort of laughter as she kicked the door shut behind her. “Wow. I’m wide awake before you? What’s the occasion?”

“You tell me,” Elsa responded wryly, setting her feet into her slippers and grabbing up her robe. Judging by the tray Anna carried, they were going to have a quiet breakfast in her quarters. She’d worry about dressing afterwards. She cast a glance towards her large window. The sun wasn’t yet _so_ high. “It’s not particularly late. Why are you up so early?”

“Oh, well,” Anna started with a shrug, looking a  little sheepish and moving through the room to make her way to Elsa’s adjoining parlor. Elsa heard the faint clinking of the tray being sat down and the dishes being laid out. “I sorta have a date.”

“Ah,” came Elsa’s brief answer. She’d hastily re-braided her hair, and she tied it off before following Anna’s path into the parlor, taking a seat across from her sister. She poured herself a cup of coffee before continuing, conversationally, “Only sort of?”

“What?” Distracted by buttering toast, Anna had lost track of her own words. It only took a second for it to re-register, though, and she laughed brightly at herself. She took a bite of the toast and answered around it, even less prone to a proper princess’s manners in the presence of familiar company. “Oh, well… We’re going ice fishing. Kristoff said he’d teach me how to gut and fillet ‘em, too, _and_ Olaf’s coming with us. It’s not exactly super-romantic or anything.”

Given that admission, however, Anna seemed no less delighted at the prospect. Elsa’s mouth stretched into an easy smile as she cracked open the shell of a soft-boiled egg. They spent close to an hour over breakfast, chatting idly about nothing and everything. By the time Anna had to leave to meet her ice harvester, Elsa had forgotten all about the deep cave and the lingering smell of the wet rock.

Later that evening, as the last ounces of daylight were fading out, she spied the pair as she passed an upstairs window. They sat sideways on a backless bench in the courtyard below, Anna with her back to Kristoff, head rolling as he massaged her shoulders. The span of his hands against her back made her look rather small, and she looked smaller still when fell playfully back into him and allowed him to gather her up in his arms. He kissed the top of her head, and they sat like that for some time. They must have been talking, Elsa imagined, and she wondered what sorts of things they talked about as she left the window and continued on her way.

* * *

Once again, Elsa approached the mouth of the cave, a pin-prick of shelter in a landscape of harsh whiteness and howling winds. Once again, she entered on careful footing, hand against the wet  and cold rock of the wall to assure her own steadiness as she slowly made her way forward. This time, she made her way into the darkness, leaving the daylight behind altogether. She proceeded with her head up high, unafraid but unsure of _why_. Down and down she went, then up again, on a curving, curling path into the heart of the mountain. All was darkness and quiet for quiet some time until, finally, she heard noises somewhere in the dreary distance ahead of her.

They were the sounds that come with living, the hustle and bustle that come complete with any home. There was the clinking of tableware and the snap of clean linens, the crackle of a fire and the faint, airy sound of individuals brushing by one another in close quarters. Finally, there were voices, too, starting soft and slowly rising over the din, “Your Majesty… Your Majesty…”

Elsa’s eyes snapped open as Kai called out to her once more, reality rushing in quickly with wakefulness. “Just a moment,” she called, scrambling from her bed to shove her feet into her slippers. She bid the beloved steward to enter as she tied her robe closed. He was accompanied by both Gerda and another maid, as was the usual routine, and he read off her day’s schedule while the ladies helped her make herself ready.

This time, the dream lingered in the back of her mind well into the morning. By the time she’d started wading into the day’s matters of politics and policy, however, it faded once more from her thoughts.

* * *

 

It wasn’t until nearly a week of experiencing the same dream that Elsa finally spoke of it. It was a somewhat dreary Sunday afternoon, the autumn air cold and the sky overcast, and she, Anna, and Kristoff had retired to the library after lunch. While she and Anna sat in comfortable chairs before the fireplace, the Royal Ice Master and Deliverer chose to occupy a writing desk nearby, bent quietly over his ledgers while the sisters talked.

She hadn’t pushed it into the conversation, but she was relieved when she was able to bring it up in a natural sort of way. Anna had dreamed the previous night that Sven had learned to fly, and Elsa had seized the opportunity to relate the imagery of the mountain, the cave, and the apparent life within.

“And you haven’t ever made it to wherever the noise is coming from?” Anna asked, literally on the edge of her seat, fingers tapping her chin.

“I have not,” Elsa answered, amused at the image her sister was presenting.

“And you’ve have this dream for _six days_?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Well, Elsa! That’s got to mean _something_!”

The queen was about to answer that she wasn’t so sure about that, that that was the sort of thing out of fairy stories, but Kristoff, who’d been contributing quite sparingly to the conversation, spoke up before she did. “Anna’s got a point,” he said, flipping his books closed and stowing the pen he’d been using. “That sounds like a prophetic dream if I ever heard one.”

“You can’t be serious,” Elsa replied, keeping a playful tone in her voice. From what she knew of Kristoff, which admittedly wasn’t a great deal, he was a very practical man. He wasn’t prone to the same flights of fancy that tended to overtake Anna, and that helped to make them a balanced entity. To think that he would latch onto such an idea right away… “That’s fairytale stuff.”

Both Anna and Kristoff fixed level looks at her, and she realized how especially silly that claim sounded, coming from her. She _did_ have magical ice powers, after all, the sort of thing one might find in a fairytale. Suddenly a bit embarrassed under their gazes, she wrung her hands for a moment and then let out a heavy, good-natured sigh.

“ _Fine_ ,” she conceded, eyes fixing on Kristoff. By this point, he’d moved from the desk and was leaning casually against the back of Anna’s armchair, now fully involved in the discussion. “If it _is_ prophetic, what do you think it means?”

His answer was immediate but slightly frustrating. He simply shrugged with a wide, closed-mouth smile. “No idea,” he said, and Elsa opened her mouth to say something in return, perhaps offer a sarcastic word of thanks, but she was cut off as he pressed forward. “I know somebody who _will_ know, though, if you want to find out.”

* * *

It was two more days before their schedules allowed them a day to follow through with the proposed plan, and three more nights of the same dream. By the time they saddled up to go into the mountains, Elsa was relieved and eager for answers. The ride up seemed to take a very long time, the trail unfamiliar though she’d taken it once before. Anna had kept the conversation going almost single-handedly for the entire ride, getting somewhat short answers from the other two, while Kristoff concentrated on leading the way and Elsa found herself preoccupied with the worried possibilities of her dream.

She’d thought that the worst of her trials had passed after the events of her ruined coronation. While the magic she possessed was still a part of her life and was by no means fully under her control, her summertime winter and Anna’s sacrifice had helped her to better understand that aspect of herself. Her understanding wasn’t complete, however, and she frankly wasn’t ready to wade any deeper into the mysterious and long-forgotten aspects of the world.

At some point during her musings, a frost had begun to creep from her hands and down her reigns. There was a lapse in Anna’s conversation that didn’t even register with Elsa, lost in thought as she was. She started at a hand on her arm, and turned sharply in her saddle to see her little sister’s concerned and sympathetic face.

“You don’t have to worry, Elsa. They’re really nice, just… You know, they’re a little loud, and a little overbearing…”

“Don’t forget inappropriate,” Kristoff called from ahead of them, humor laced through his voice.

“Right, _and_ they’re inappropriate,” Anna noted, and there was an easy cheer throughout her whole being that Elsa found immensely comforting. Her too-tight grip on her reigns loosened, and she reached up to set her hand over her sister’s before stopping short, that life-long fear reasserting itself. Anna didn’t care, didn’t pay it a bit of mind in the face of her faith, and she moved her hand from Elsa’s arm to grip her hand instead. She gave it a brief squeeze before releasing it, taking up her reigns again to steer her horse around a tree. “But they’re really nice. You’ll see.”

The sun had sunk low by the time they reached the edge of the Valley of Living Rock. Concerned that their horses would spook when faced with the mass of curious, pushy beings that they’d planned to meet, they left the beasts to graze and proceeded on foot. Sven trotted merrily ahead of the party, and Kristoff alternatively walked ahead of and alongside the sisters, who walked arm-in-arm. Soon they came to the heart of the Valley, where shelves of rock led, almost as steps, into the dip of land inhabited by perfectly round, moss-covered boulders. The light fading fast, now, Kristoff offered his arm repeatedly as they made their way down. Their timing was perfect, and the last of the day vanished behind a nearby mountain as their feet met the smooth rock of the valley floor.

Elsa caught a glimpse of teeth in the near-blackness as Kristoff shot her sister a grin, then he turned towards the assembled mass of boulders and hollered. “Hey, everybody! I’m home!”

She’d been eight when her parents had ushered her into the trolls’ territory. While the night had remained prominent in her memory since then, certain aspects of it has become blurred into the background. She would _never_ forget hurting Anna, would _never_ forget the fear that had taken over her heart and ruled her for the next thirteen years… The odd imagery of watching a group of rocks turn suddenly into a group of fantastic monsters? Now there was something she’d lost the specifics of. It caught her by surprise, then, when an uncountable number of eyes were suddenly staring at her, each pair set in a round, stony face illuminated by glowing crystals.

There was a brief moment in which she could hear a few murmurings around her, things like ‘Ooh, the queen!’ and ‘Oh, my! How lovely!’, but they were very soon drowned out by a raucous cheering. Kristoff was home!

While the trolls seemed to treat her appearance with a little more reservation, the same was not true for their behavior towards Kristoff or Anna. They descended upon their adopted clansman immediately, stacked three-high to straighten his hair and pinch his cheeks. Within seconds, Anna’s braids had been threaded with numerous flowers, and a group of young trolls were giggling at her feet. It was a lot of activity all at once, and a lot of noise. Despite the fact that the trolls seemed content to leave her to her own space, the flurry of movement and voices made caused her to tense up. She drew her shoulders up and clasped her hands together in front of, waiting anxiously to address what they’d come to address.

Finally, she heard a frustrated groan from behind her, and she turned to find that the trolls had shoved Anna and Kristoff close together. One of the female trolls was chatting animatedly at Anna, who looked _far_ more amused than her beau. The blond man wore an open pout, making him look rather boyish, and he topped off the image by whining, “Ma! Lay off already! Please!”

The troll in question, apparently Kristoff’s mother, opened her mouth to protest. She was interrupted, however, by a level voice, soft but stern, near Elsa’s feet. “That’s enough, Bulda. If you keep teasing him, he’ll get cold feet.”

The queen jumped, startled, and a thin frost shot out from under her feet. Pabbie merely chuckled, cold feet _indeed_ , and continued forward, stopping in front of her. He looked calmly up at her, and she noted that he hadn’t changed an ounce since she’d last received his words. This scene was so much like what she’d experienced that night, and the grim feelings that came with the memory settled heavily in her belly. The old troll bowed to her, and Elsa inclined her head politely before moving to crouch before him.

“Your Majesty, you’ve grown well,” he began, his small arms reaching forward to take her hands carefully in his. His gaze was penetrating, but not unfriendly, and he didn’t take his eyes from her when he addressed their mutual companion. “Kristoff?”

Slipping from his mother’s adoring scrutiny, the ice harvester stepped forward. Despite all of his magics and eyes that seemed to see through you, Pabbie could not read minds. Kristoff had brought her here. Why was that? He cleared his throat and answered, “She’s been having the same dream every night. It’s been nine in a row, so far.”

With another of his low hums, Pabbie nodded in understanding. “Would your Majesty mind describing this dream?”

Her Majesty would not mind, as it turned out, and she did as she was asked. She related her mind’s nightly journey, into the white, windy mountains, and into the cave from there, and down, down, down… She found herself frustrated that she could provide no satisfying ending to her story. She thought herself ineloquent when she had to trail off and leave the whole thing open-ended. “And that’s it,” she finished lamely. “I start to hear noises, to hear _life_ , but I never get any closer to it. I always wake up before I see what’s in the heart of the mountain.”

The chatter of the surrounding trolls had quieted while she related her dream, and now an odd silence hung in the air around them. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but it felt heavy all the same. It was Kristoff who tentatively broke through the quiet. “An omen, Pabbie?”

“No, my boy,” the ancient troll assured, though he seemed no less comforted by his own words. He kept his eyes steadily on Elsa, still, and moved to gently clasp one of her hands between his own two. Voice still low and soothing, always so, he finally provided the answer they’d come for. “Not an omen, but an invitation.”


	2. I Dream a Nation

Two days ago, Queen Elsa of Arendelle had ridden into the mountains surrounding her capital to seek council from the apparent magical forces that dwelled within them. This was done at the behest of her newly-appointed “Ice Master,” a position which still brought small, confused frowns to the faces of those within the Queen’s Council. The revelation of all of this only served to deepen those frowns. Elsa, poised with her hands folded primly in her lap, was currently facing the brunt of these frowns, each with a matching set of doubting eyes and creased brows. At worst, the gazes before her were concerned. At worst, they were bordering on scandalized.

“Your Majesty,” began Lord Haugen, a well-born man whose primary concerns lay with the kingdom’s agricultural pursuits. “I’m afraid I find myself at a loss. Forgive me, but… I don’t understand. Master Bjorgman instructed you to take this journey?”

The rest of the room remained silent, but Elsa saw the same question in the faces of Lord Haugen’s fellows. _Why_? How had this situation come to be, and what part did an elevated merchant have in all of it? It occurred to Elsa what they must be thinking, that Kristoff must be some sort of schemer. For all that superstition still lingered in the dark corners, Arendelle was a kingdom of practical people. The same way in which Elsa had doubted any significance in her dreams, these men could look upon their sorceress of a queen and not buy into her tale of casual magic. In their minds, perhaps there were two possibilities. Either Kristoff was taking advantage of her naiveté or Elsa herself was out of her mind.

She unconsciously wetted her lips before pressing them into her own, thin frown. Attempting a tone that left no room for argument, she pressed on. “Master Bjorgman suggested I consult the trolls of the mountains when I began experiencing a recurring dream. All further instruction came from them.”

Their doubt was still evident in the stiffness of their postures, though they seemed unsure of how to best address their remaining concerns. The bishop looked particularly puzzled, faced with the intrusion of supernatural happens upon Arendelle’s more civilized populous. It was he who spoke up at last. “And you say you spoke with these things yourself? Truly?”

Elsa couldn’t help the small smile that broke onto her face. The man sounded more confused than anything, as if he were still trying to decide whether this was possible at all. She nodded and pressed onward, determined to make herself clear. She was leaving, one way or another. She’d rather do so with the blessing of her kingdom. “I have received council from the elder troll twice in my life, now. My father brought me to them when I was young, when my powers caused something of a small crisis within our family.”

She could easily observes the change in the council’s demeanor. They shifted from wariness to curiosity as smoothly as a ripple travels over the water. While Arendelle’s cloistering had cut the small assembly of advisors off from the palace proper, they’d all continued to work under Elsa’s father by correspondence. They knew him to be a level-headed and capable ruler, and his knowledge of these outside forces, his cooperation with them, carried a good deal of weight. Further, direct mention of her powers reminded them of her unique position with the extra-normal.

“If your father approved of such alliances, I suppose it only makes sense to continue in that direction.” The Financial Minister chimed in, reaching up to scratch a spot above his right eyebrow. “All things considered, perhaps it would be the wisest path to take.”

There was a general hum of agreement, and Elsa was an inch from breathing a sigh of relief when there came another voice from the edge of the table. Lord Strand was the senior member of the council, a rather elderly man who moved with a slight shakiness. He reached up to adjust his spectacles on his nose, squinting around the room. “I’m afraid I’m still confused about something. How is it that Master Bjorgman fits into all of this again?”

The very root of the answer, Elsa had to admit, was still something of a mystery to her. To her understanding, Kristoff had spent most of his life in association with the trolls, but she’d never ventured to ask why or how it had come to be. She could only give an abridged answer to her council, then. What she knew had been enough to persuade her to go through with the task ahead, but she was also heavily influenced by Anna’s trust in the man and the care with which he handled that trust.

“Master Bjorgman has spent the majority of his life traveling in the mountains. He’s more familiar than most about the elements that exist there, flora, fauna, and otherwise. He’s able to navigate the terrain well, and he knows how to survive in less than favorable conditions. As I have been instructed to travel north, over the range, I believe him to be the ideal guide.”

Blessedly, that seemed to be enough of an explanation for now. Elsa estimated that they might like to speak to Kristoff himself at a later point, but in the meantime…

“And Arendelle, your Majesty? While you are on this journey, who will act in your stead?”

“Well,” Elsa began carefully, sure of her answer but a little discomforted by it at the same time. “That should be obvious, gentlemen. With you to guide her, Princess Anna should have little trouble temporarily acting as my voice.”

* * *

“Elsa, no! Absolutely not!”

“It’s already been decided, Anna.”

“Without _me_! I don’t accept that!”

Elsa had known that Anna would raise objections. She didn’t know they would be so hard to deal with, however. She was used to her calm reason and orders swaying the room without much in the way of forceful argument. Anna was on her feet, though, plainly fuming, their unfinished luncheon forgotten on the table between them.

“Somebody has to be here while I”m gone, Anna,” she said, trying to keep the quiver from her voice. She sat with her back very straight, fingers laced in her lap and squeezing in turn, her nervous habit of wringing her hands outright being held at bay.

“Any I’m supposed to be fine that? Just—just sitting around here while you two wander off into God-knows-what?!”

Elsa felt the situation was sliding fully from her control at this point. She knew there were no words she could offer that would comfort her sister. There was only that anger she’d roused unintentionally, perhaps a sense of betrayal, towering above her in the Anna’s displeased, reddened face. She couldn’t change her position, though. No, all that she could think to do was to escape for the time being. She stood so suddenly and stiffly that it surprised the looming princess, and Anna had to take a step back. Elsa used the space to start her flight, stepping rapidly towards the doors of her sister’s parlor. She didn’t stop as she repeated, “It’s already been decided.”

Her sudden movement must have startled Anna enough to give her pause. Elsa had turned sharply and started down the hallway before Anna followed, calling out to her. Elsa didn’t answer or turn, however. Her mind was back at her coronation, back in her palace of ice, with Anna’s will pushing forward and leaving no place for her to run. Arms crossed tightly against her chest, she reached her room and ducked into the familiar space, shutting the door behind her. Anna called her name once more, jogging the last few steps to reach the door. Elsa could see the shadow of her presence under the door, and she leaned her own weight heavily against the polished wood at her back. She reached out for the lock, but stopped with her fingertips to it. No. It was bad enough that she’d fled to the imaginary safety behind her door. Locking it would only cause more damage. She just needed a moment, only a moment, to compose herself.

Anna didn’t move, the wide shadow of her long skirts still obscuring the light coming in from the hallway. She didn’t speak, either, at least not for a long moment. When she did, it was in a small, cracked voice. “Elsa?”

A wave of guilt hit her hard as she heard the tears in Anna’s voice, and the heat of the argument completely left her. She threw open the door and immediately wrapped her sister up in her arms, her guts twisting at the little sob the redhead released against her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Anna,” she said, voice low. “I shouldn’t have shut the door on you.”

She felt the shake of Anna’s head, from within their embrace, and her apology was answered in a gurgling voice that she couldn’t help but smile fondly at. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I’m sorry, too.”

They were quiet for several seconds, locked together in the hallway. Finally, her voice still subdued, Anna ventured to break the silence. “Does it really have to be that way?”

“It’s for the best,” Elsa answered, still sure of the decision. “It won’t be long. You’ll barely know we’ve been gone by the time we get back.”

Pulling away, Anna clumsily wiped at her eyes. She managed a small laugh, an attempt to relieve her own tensions. “You know that’s not true. I’ll be pining the moment you’re out of the gates.”

* * *

On the night in which Elsa had consulted the trolls, she’d been given a mixture of herbs meant to stall her strange dreams. One of the female trolls, Pabbie’s daughter Kristoff’s foster mother, had delivered them into her hand with instructions to brew them into a tea to be drank every night before bed. She had followed the instructions to the letter, and she’d been delivered navy, dark, and dreamless sleeps night after night. She had to drag herself from it every morning, and the morning of their departure was no exception.

She still felt drowsy as she stepped into the castle’s courtyard, dress to begin her journey in riding trousers and a wool cloak. She spotted Kristoff across the way, seated in front of one of the store-houses and having breakfast with two other members of the staff. They all rose when they saw her, and she inclined her head in return. As Kristoff excused himself and came forward, coffee and buttered bread in hand, the other two returned to their own business.

“Your Majesty,” he greeted her with a wry note hidden in her title. He was bright-eyed and wide awake, and she had to inwardly admit to a hint of jealousy. Normally a morning person, she didn’t appreciate the shift in sleeping states she’d been made to endure.

“Good Morning, Master Bjorgman.” She offered her own greeting with a smile. “I trust everything’s ready to go.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” He smiled a little wider and jerked his head as a sign that she should follow him. She did, and he led her further across the courtyard to where his packed sled sat. Save for the absence of his reindeer, everything appeared to be in order. The ice harvester even went through their list of supplies, answering whatever questions she put before him. At the end of the checklist, Elsa found herself impressed. All physical preparations had been left to him while she’d covered the political ones, and he’d proven himself more than suitably reliable.

“You’ve done a wonderful job with all of this, Master Bjorgman. Thank you.”

He shrugged and moved to sit heavily at the front of the sled, apparently determined to finish the coffee and bread that he still held. “Don’t mention it,” he answered casually. After looking over his shoulder at the breakfast setting he’d just left, as if checking on his fellow staff, he added, “It’s ‘Kristoff,’ you know. I mean, the title is still kinda weird to me, no offense, so… If you’d prefer it, you can use my name. That’d be fine. _Great_ , in fact.”

Elsa had to stop herself from laughing. She was sure that was the most she’d ever heard Kristoff say at one time. While she’d observed his general awkwardness before, she was rarely faced with it so directly. It was a bit disarming, and her anxiousness about their departure ebbed away just a little bit.

“‘Kristoff,’ then,” she agreed almost cheerfully, “And I’m ‘Elsa,’ when we find ourselves away from propriety.”

She joined him in the seat of his sled while he started eating, and they were soon discussing the road ahead of them. The world was on the cusp of winter, and the first snowfalls were enough to make their path an easier one to follow in the sled. They’d use a pass familiar to him to get around the North Mountain, pressing onward into the range, and then…

“I’m afraid your family was a bit vague as to what’s expected of me, exactly.”

Kristoff winced at that, his expression immediately turning somewhat apologetic. “Yeah, they do that. It’s in their nature to sort of… Well, they never _lie_ , but they tend to keep half of the truth for themselves.”

She resisted the urge to quip, somewhat agitatedly, that she’d notice this quality in them. This tendency had caused a misinterpretation that had seen her isolated for most of her life, her fear and her powers never conquered. She kept quiet and smooth that down, however, as he pressed on.

“They haven’t told me much that they haven’t told you, but… I _do_ know what I already knew, which might be different from what you know.” He paused, as if waiting for some kind of go-ahead, and she nodded for him to continue. He finished the last of his bread, washed it down with a swallow of coffee, and went on. “The trolls in the Valley are just a little part of the magic in this world. They’re kind of an oddity, actually, being something so big and obvious so close to humanity. Most magic’s been pushed to the edges of existence by people, intentionally or not, so it’s become what it is. It’s something that people fear, or don’t acknowledge, because it’s not seen.

“The thing is, Arendelle is basically on the edge of the world. Compared to a lot of other places, it’s in something of a unique position. Beyond the edge of the kingdom, up north, where most people can’t live… There’s still plenty of magic there.”

Kristoff stopped again, to collect his thoughts and allow her to collect her own. As he finished off his coffee, she was looking down at her palms. ‘Plenty of magic,’ he’d said. Those words stuck out to her and echoed through her mind.

When he spoke again, it startled her from her thoughts, and she flinched slightly but was sure to listen. He spoke quietly, slowly, as if trying to say the right thing while being unsure of the precise answer he was searching for. “It stands to reason that Arendelle would have ties to that magic, I guess, and that you might be the proof of that.”

There was a beat of silence as Elsa mulled that over and tried to gather her words. In all honesty, Kristoff’s knowledge didn’t add much to what she already knew. It told her, perhaps, _why_ the forces in the north had invited her to see them, but it didn’t pinpoint what they might want from her. She opened her mouth, perhaps to question him further, but another voice rang out before she could speak.

“Good Morning,” Anna chimed, an obvious degree of forced cheerfulness in her voice. They turned to find her rounding on the sled, her thick cloak around her shoulders and Olaf waddling at her heels. Kristoff brightened right away and got up to greet the princess. Elsa didn’t move so quickly. Anna’s presence seemed to solidify the idea that she was leaving, and that settled heavily in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

Inside of an hour, they were ready to go. After hooking Sven up to the sled, Kristoff joined the sisters. They all stood in silence for several seconds before Anna finally blurted out, “Oh! I’m to miss you guys so much!”

She practically launched herself forward, then, trying to get an arm around each of them. It was only a moderately successful gesture, given Kristoff’s size. Easier a task was their each getting an arm around Anna.

Overcome by the easy contentment within this cluster, Elsa let out a little squeak of surprise when she suddenly felt herself squeezed and lifted from the ground. Kristoff’s arms had gathered up both royals, and Anna giggled as the blond man moved to kiss her soundly at the edge of her mouth. Almost as abruptly as they’d been lifted, they were set down again. Kristoff withdrew from them, looking rather embarrassed to have shown his affections in front of the queen.

Anna only laughed again. As the sound faded, however, she had to reach up to wipe her eyes where tears had started to form. Her voice was thick as she asked, “You’ll look out for each other, right?”

“Of course,” Elsa practically cooed, reaching a hand out to smooth down Anna’s fringe.

Kristoff’s answer came steady and solid from over her shoulder. “I swear it.”

They were pulling out of the courtyard shortly after that. Anna followed them until they gained too much speed on her, and she lingered outside of the gates even then. As Kristoff drove, urging Sven forward with gentle snaps of the reins, Elsa watched her sister’s figure grow smaller and smaller with distance.

Too soon, they crested a hill and started down the other side, obscuring the town and castle from view. For the time being, Arendelle was behind them, and what lay ahead was largely unknown.


	3. While Passing Through

They stopped shortly after noon for a quick lunch and to allow Sven to rest. Like they had throughout the morning, Elsa and Kristoff sat in companionable silence while they ate. Once they’d finished, however, Elsa finally felt the need to start _some_ sort of conversation between them.

“I think we need an ice breaker.”

The words didn’t register just right. Kristoff looked up at her from where he’d been hooking Sven back up to her sled, his expression puzzled. “I’ve got my pickaxe there in the sled, under the bedrolls.”

Elsa almost giggled at that, but she stopped herself in case her laughing might offend him. She didn’t stop the wide smile that formed on her face, though. “No, I meant… Well, for example, how old are you?”

“Oh,” he said with a snort, wrinkling his nose in good humor at his own misunderstanding. Perhaps a little embarrassment was due to him for being such a poor conversationalist. At least the question was easy enough to answer. “My birthday is in autumn. I just turned twenty-two.”

Elsa gasped, which Kristoff felt was a bit dramatic for such a small fact. “Your birthday was recently? This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

He shrugged. “It’s the first I’ve said of it.”

“At all? You didn’t even mention it to Anna?”

He looked mildly uncomfortable for a moment, as if the fact that he’d kept it to himself might paint him as a liar. “No, I… She would’ve made a big deal out of it, and it’s not a big deal thing to me.”

She let it go at that, and Kristoff returned to re-prepping the sled. It wasn’t until they’d started moving again that she put another casual question forward. She’d realized, while considering what to ask, that she didn’t know much at all about Kristoff, so far as his history went. She knew enough to find him likable, she supposed. She knew that he was somewhat anti-social, or at least uneasy within large groups. She knew that he was kind, even so, and that he’d acted without self-interest where Anna was concerned. He was good at his job and a hard worker. He had a dry sense of humor and, apparently (according to Anna), a lovely singing voice. Other than these little bits and pieces, however, there was nothing. For all she knew, Kristoff could have simply _appeared_ one day, fully formed as he was, and nobody would be any the wiser.

Why not start with these basics, then? “Where are you from?” she ventured. “Originally, I mean.”

His answer, not unexpectedly, was short. “Up north.”

“Oh? One of the villages in the foothills?”

“Not really, no.”

Elsa was becoming rapidly aware of the fact that Kristoff needed to be led into conversation. Much like the trolls, whose nature he’d explained only hours before, his tendency was to keep certain truths to himself. While open in his answers, he didn’t seem to divulge information without being directly prompted to do so. She pressed on, then, exasperation edging into her voice. “From _where_ , then? Specifically.”

He thought it over, as if he himself wasn’t sure, and then answered with a thoughtful frown. “Up north, almost where we’re headed. Most places don’t really have names up there. Nothing set, anyway.”

“You said people can’t live up there,” she reminded him, one eyebrow quirked in a skeptical expression.

“I said _most_ people.”

“So your people figured it out?”

“Guess so,” he said, and again Elsa got the impression that his knowledge on the subject was somehow less than complete and that he was acutely aware of that fact. On that note, she fell into silence again, relaxing into the bench of the sled while her mind continued to wander.

* * *

On the second day into their journey, about an hour before suppertime, Kristoff announced that they would stop early for the night. After he’d found a suitable spot to camp and assured that his reindeer was well-fed and watered, he pressed an old coin into her hand and said, “Follow me. There’s something we need to take care of.”

Without giving her time to question or object to the order, he started towards the nearby tree line. Elsa followed, turning the coin, in her hand and trying to divide her attention between her footing and Kristoff, as if watching him more closely might decipher the mystery of their current mission. He squinted into the trees as they edged them until he seemed to find what he was looking for, taking a wide step into the brush. He leaned back to look at her, and his eyes darted down to her boots, still worn in combination with thick trousers. “There’s a trail,” he informed her, “but it’s not a very clean one.”

There was no question included, no wondering about whether her boots _or_ herself were up to the task of a small hike. She had half a mind to object, or to at least request an answer as to why they were plunging themselves into the woods, but Kristoff’s long strides had already carried him out of lecturing distance. As she moved to follow him once more, stepping over and around the relatively new growth that covered the path, she occupied herself by considering this man’s lack of delicacy. His attitude since they’d left Arendelle had undoubtedly shifted. While she’d previously known him to be someone who seemed unsure of what to do with himself, his posture often stiff and his speech often bumbling, he was truly in his element out here. He’d dropped most of his formality with her, and he functioned with a sureness that always seemed practical and to the point. He still was particularly prone to conversation, but then… She wasn’t, either. That was fine, however. A smile bloomed on her face as she concluded that Anna could talk enough for all three of them.

The trek wasn’t a long one. She caught up to Kristoff to find him standing still and looking forward. Here, the woods had thinned, the trees having grown around the sight before them. It was a great rock formation, jutting somewhat unexpectedly from the otherwise fairly smooth ground of the area. Truth be told, it looked somewhat out of place, and its oddity was only multiplied upon further inspection. The ground around the landmark was littered with items that plainly didn’t belong there. There were time-bleached offering of antlers and small-game skeletons, a worn totem or two, and quite a few coins. Their task became clear before Kristoff even started to explain.

“It’s like a shrine,” he started quietly. “Things like this, things that stand out in nature, are said to be places for gods and spirits. It’s where they can pass back and forth from our realm and theirs, and it’s where you can seek their blessing.” He sounded rather reverent as he said this, carefully hushed, and the tone made her feel somewhat uneasy for reasons she didn’t understand. He broke that tension just as quickly, though, turning back to her with a wide smile. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

* * *

Dinner that night consisted of rabbit and boiled potatoes, hearty if not glamorous. Elsa sat on a downed log with her legs drawn up and her bowl balanced on her knees. When she’d finished eating, she set her dish aside and stared, quiet, into the fire. Her thoughts went back to the events just prior to their meal, and she turned to Kristoff to question him as he polished off his potatoes. “How did you know about that?” she asked. “About the offering stone, I mean.”

He had to swallow before answering. “I know where a bunch of them are. It just comes with knowing the territory.”

While that answered what she’d asked, to a degree, it wasn’t the answer she’d been looking for. She reconsidered her words and tried again. “How did you know what it meant? I don’t believe many in Arendelle keep such habits, making offerings to spirits and the like. Is it something that you got from the trolls?”

“No. Not entirely.” He ran his tongue over his teeth to clean them, thinking over his personal history as he seemed to do every time she’d brought the subject up. “My folks used to do it, now and again. They were holding on to old things, that’s all. All things considered, I don’t think it’s a bad plan.”

“What? Holding on to old things?”

He hummed affirmatively. “Forgetting to observe stuff like that… Well, we already talked about magic getting pushed away, didn’t we? That’s what this whole thing is, you know.”

“Something like that, at least,” she responded a little flatly. She noted to herself, not for the first time, that this whole affair was little more than acting on a mad whim. They were traveling under the influence of a question with only the _hope_ of encountering a satisfying answer. “I’m not sure what all of this is, really. It just seems important. Does that make sense?”

“It does,” he answered, face solemn in a way that conveyed his sincerity. Then he stood to start the post-dinner cleanup.

* * *

They made fairly good time through the mountains surrounding the kingdom, save for one day that had been spent moving a downed tree from their path. Even given that, reaching the region shown to Elsa in her dreams took nearly two weeks.

During mid-morning of the twelfth day, they rounded one of the side of a cliffside and found themselves looking down into a great valley. The air at this latitude was bitterly cold, and the expansive stretch of land before them was covered in an ever-present layer of snow and ice, largely devoid of any plant growth or life. It reminded Elsa of the frozen fjord, and a chill went up her spine at the thought. Beyond that oddly-smooth surface, a great mountain rose up almost abruptly. It was ancient and time-worn, obviously a shadow of its former glory but wholly impressive in what remained. The moment she saw it, she knew that it was the place she’d dreamed of. She communicated so much to Kristoff with a sure nod, and he drove the sled forward.

It took another two hours for them to navigate to the edge of the flatland, and Kristoff pulled the reins firmly as soon as they reached that point. When she fixed him with a questioning look, he shrugged and moved to exit the sled. “It’s a straight shot from here,” he said as he started digging through the packs behind her. “We can’t just walk into the territory, though. There’s a certain amount of ceremony required.”

“Ceremony?” she asked, climbing from the sled herself. Absently, she stepped toward Sven, petting at his neck and muzzle. “What sort of ceremony?”

Kristoff answered while he pulled their camping supplies free. “Well, it’s… According to Pabbie, they operate like a court, which doesn’t mean a lot to _me_ , but you probably understand it, being a queen and everything.”

She did understand, to a degree. This was her first excursion to another court, however, and the sudden appearance of the fact brought the weight of her inexperience down upon her in the blink of an eye. She frowned at the feeling, ducking her head so that Kristoff couldn’t see. He could have given her more of a heads up, she thought. As of this moment, she felt more unprepared than ever. He was right, after all. There were certain rules in these things that needed to be followed. As it was, she had no kind or symbolic gestures to present, no common policy to lead with… Nothing.

Kristoff must have picked up on her discomfort, because he tried to offer some reassurance. “Don’t worry about it, alright? Pabbie gave me firm instructions. We have everything we need.”

“Is that right?” she returned, immediately regretting her clipped tone. She offered him an apologetic glance. “I wish you would have mentioned it before. I feel more nervous about the whole thing now.”

“Don’t,” he said, still attempting a soothing tone, as if the feeling was that easy to turn off.

It wasn’t, and a nagging anxiety sat on her shoulders through the afternoon and into the evening. She did her best to keep it to herself, however, and if Kristoff noticed her unease, he didn’t say anything. They set up camp and passed the day playing cards, folding up in one of their tents with a small, portable table between them. Kristoff didn’t know many games, and, while Elsa had been teaching him those that she’d played with her father, he still wasn’t particularly skilled. Near dusk, he finally gave up, sucking on his teeth in exaggerated sourness.

He lifted the tent flap, then, gauging the waning sunlight. As he helped her collect the cards, the quietly broached the subject of their visit again. “After this, we can go set up our signal. It’ll let whoever’s in the mountain know that we’ve arrived. From there, I don’t really know.”

“Can you venture to guess, at least?”

“Well. They’ll either signal us back or send somebody. That’d be my guess.”

The signal itself consisted of two strings of crystals like those the trolls wore. Kristoff pulled them from his personal pack, untangling them carefully and turning to Elsa with a short lifting of his eyebrows. Through the merit of her ice powers, they constructed something akin to a lamppost, perhaps slightly more ornate than necessary.

What happened next struck her as somewhat peculiar. After tying the crystal strings together, Kristoff held them in his cupped hands, brought them to his mouth, and _whispered_ something to them. Slowly, starting very dim and growing brighter, the crystals began to glow. They both reacted with impressed surprise.

“I didn’t know you could do anything like that,” remarked Elsa as she attached the glowing crystals to the top of her ice post, balanced on one of Kristoff’s broad shoulders. “Magic, I mean.”

“I can’t really.” When he was sure everything was in place, Kristoff moved to set the queen down. “That was just something Pabbie set up. I’ve never been able to do anything with magic on my own.”

The admission led to a discussion of magic over supper. Elsa, born with the long-thought burden of her powers, had never much stopped to consider whether such things could be taken up willingly. It was just as well. The knowledge was so hard to come by these days, harnessing any such power was rarely an opportunity that human beings encountered. When presented with such a chance, as Kristoff had been, magic still required a degree of talent. The ice harvester had possessed no such talent, and thus he remained an ice harvester.

That night, Elsa lay down musing over the world and rules of magic. She found it hard to fall asleep, and she slept fitfully. She dreamed of crossing the expanse of ice and snow before them, coming closer and closer to the opening within the mountainside, and plunging herself into the unknown world beyond.

* * *

She woke abruptly to the sound of Sven’s braying. As she climbed upward into being fully alert, she was aware of movement and voices outside. Stopping short of leaving her tent to see what the fuss was, she instead stilled herself to listen.

“I’m afraid her Majesty hasn’t risen yet,” said Kristoff, re-adopting the awkwardly formal speech he used while at her own castle. She could picture him trying to force his posture straighter, clutching his hat in both hands.

The second voice was somewhat gravelly, coupled with a stiff, wheezy inhalation. It, too, spoke in a very polite, stiff tone. “I must apologize for arriving so early, then. Orders are orders, however. I trust my waiting here isn’t out of the question.”

“That won’t be necessary, gentlemen,” Elsa insisted, putting on her most convincing stride of confidence as she exited her tent. She faltered, though, when she first beheld their envoy.

She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. She hadn’t been counting on their hosts being human, but she hadn’t put much imagination into other possibilities. Perhaps she’d assumed they’d be like Kristoff’s trolls, but… No. The being before them certainly shared some qualities with Pabbie’s clan. It seemed earthen and stoney-skinned, but that was largely where the similarities ended. Rather than being short and squat, it was similar in proportion to a rather tall, slender man. It was masculine in appearance, too, sporting a mossy beard and clad in a tunic and trousers made from a material that she couldn’t identify. Most frighteningly, somehow, was the fact that it sat astride a beast very much like a horse but also distinctly different from a horse. She was trying to make the overall vision make sense to her, unwittingly creating a silence that stretched over several seconds.

Kristoff cleared his throat and stuttered out a line of presentation. “Er… I have the honor of introducing her Majesty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle.”

That served to deliver Elsa back to reality and the situation at hand. She straightened her back and raised her chin, the picture of royal dignity. “A pleasure, I’m sure,” she spoke to the unusual official.

He didn’t seem fully impressed, but he bowed in his saddle nonetheless. “Your Majesty,” he greeted, “I am Sir Einar. It is my duty to escort you to the Ancient Home and Court of King Áki.”


End file.
